Beastly Reflections
by ImagineATale
Summary: This will be a series of oneshots from Beast's (first person) perspective as he reflects on events that happen after Belle arrives at the castle. I thought it might be interesting to try to get in his mind as he undergoes his character development.
1. Daughter Of A Common Thief

**Okay, still working on "I Will Be With You For Evermore", but decided it might be interesting to do a series of oneshots of Beast's perspective throughout the events of the 2017 movie. This way I'll have one thing to work on if I find I need to give my brain a break on the other. Might alternate between the two. Or maybe I'll be on a roll with this one for a bit. So many ideas just swim around in my head!**

 **I'll likely expand on scenes and/or put new scenes in, because I think it would be fun to explore what he's thinking, feeling, and doing off screen.**

 **This first one is just such an off screen exploration, taking place just after Beast sends Maurice away after Belle takes his place. It extends into some on screen stuff to the point he looks at her in the mirror after her dinner refusal.**

Well this was just a fine situation. The daughter of a thief has come and taken her father's place in my tower dungeon. I was surprised, and the reason she had given was "he's my father". Well they're both fools, and I told her as much as I started dragging her father away.

And once I got into my room in the west wing and glanced at the cursed rose, something unsettling occurred to me. This was the first female to show up here since the curse was placed upon us. And the rose was well past its prime. I couldn't be sure how long it had been or how much time was left but there was definitely more time behind us than ahead. And I found myself with little doubt that the servants were going to get some bright ideas.

I had given up all hope long ago. Nobody would ever love me. And the arrival of this peasant girl did nothing to instill hope. And besides, this was not just any peasant girl. This just so happened to be the daughter of a common thief. Even if I had hope that someone could break the spell, this disturbing detail did nothing to recommend her for the task.

And yet, I had a disconcerting feeling that my staff would get some idea that this girl could free us all. And a certain candelabra would probably be the ring leader. And they probably would never let me hear the end of it. Perhaps I should never have agreed to the trade.

And at dinner time, when I discovered the table had been set for two, my suspicions were confirmed. I cleared the table with a swipe of a paw.

"LUMIERE!" I roared the name of the aforementioned certain candelabra as I went to confront the staff.

And sure enough they thought it would be a great idea if we ate dinner together. And, sure enough, Lumiere seemed to be the mastermind. Apparently they, particularly Lumiere I'm sure, thought to remove her from the cell up in the tower and put her in an east wing bedroom. I was not amused.

"She's the daughter of a common thief," I pointed out. "What do you think that makes her?"

Leave it to Mrs. Potts to respond with something with which I couldn't argue. That seemed a habit of hers, and she was really the only servant who could do that kind of thing without me putting her in her place.

"You can't judge a person by who their father is, now can you?" the teapot pointed out.

At some point during this whole fiasco Lumiere also pointed out something I couldn't argue with.

"With each passing day we become less human."

This was true. The curse was more severe on the staff. With each enchanted rose petal that fell they all became more like the inanimate objects they would eventually become. Then I would be completely alone. My selfishness didn't allow me much concern for their sakes, but I was dreading the thought that one day, in the not too distant future, I would be completely alone. And, though I couldn't admit it out loud, there was the occasional prick of guilt that they were all, for all intents and purposes, slowly dying for a choice I had made. The sadness in Lumiere's voice caused just such a prick.

Fine. I decided I'd go along with it, if for no other reason than to prove to them what a foolish idea they'd gotten into their heads. It all happened so quickly it was sort of a blur. But I do remember it being an utter disaster. I ordered her to come to dinner. She didn't respond at first. The staff told me to be gentle. I tried that approach. A 'just a minute' from the girl prompted Lumiere to advise a smile when she opened the door. He asked to see the smile. Quite predictably, nobody liked the result. _Seriously everybody?_ I thought to myself. _What did you expect? I have fangs, remember?_ I asked if she'd join me for dinner. She refused. We yelled at each other. We banged the door at each other. And she said she'd starve before she ate with me.

"Be my guest!" I yelled angrily. "Go ahead and starve!" I ordered that if she would not eat with me then she was not to eat at all. "IDIOTS!" I yelled as I stormed off.

 _Idiots! Fools! Cretins!_ I said to myself as I ran into the west wing. _What were they thinking? Has the curse finally robbed them of any sense at all?_

This girl irritated me. She dared to yell at me and refused a direct order. And yet this also fascinated me. No one had shown that kind of audacity before. Come to think of it, it was fascinating that she pushed her father out of the dungeon cell and slammed the door, locking herself in forever. Or what would have been forever if a certain candelabra hadn't taken leave of his senses and put her in a room. I took up the mirror next to the rose. Another gift left behind by the enchantress.

"Show me the girl."

There she sat, a prisoner. She knew she was a prisoner. I knew she was a prisoner. She was the _daughter of a common thief_. And despite the kernel of wisdom from Mrs. Potts, one could have a fairly good idea of the character of another by who their father is. After all, I grew up to be the same, selfish, vain monster my father was. And now I'm cursed with the beastly appearance to prove it.

I set the mirror down. No, she could never love me. And besides, I would have to let her into my melancholy heart. I'd have to learn to love. I'd have to love her first. And how could I love the daughter of a common thief?

I briefly considered going and putting her back in the cell. But I decided against it. Somehow it didn't seem quite right. She was already in a room. She might as well stay there. Hopefully, the staff has learned their lesson at her door and would let the whole 'this girl might be the one' business rest.

Somehow, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen. Not anytime soon anyway.


	2. I Nearly Killed Her With Wolves

**All right. This "beastly reflection" starts with off screen stuff after Beast chases Belle out of the west wing and then covers the wolf scene.**

 **Just a note about my description of on screen scenes, due to visual impairment I may have some inaccuracies as I kind of make assumptions. For instance, I don't know who is wearing Belle's cloak as Beast is riding atop Philippe. So if there are discrepencies in visual details between what we see on screen and how I am describing those details, that's probably why.**

 **GodlyJewel, don't worry, I'll probably be working on this for a while. I may be at a slight standstill with my other story. I'd like to start moving it into a lighter direction, and not have too many redundant chapters, but don't want to make Belle recover from her trauma too unrealistically fast. So I've got to figure out how to work that. I think I'll probably be focusing on this while figuring out the other. And I agree about stories from Beast's POV. He's such a fascinating character whose mind and heart are more than worth exploring I think.**

Okay. So maybe I overreacted. A little. But had my staff so little functional brain left that not only did they take her out of her secure cell but they utterly failed to tell her to stay out of the west wing? And not only did she come into my private lair, but she was _about to touch the enchanted rose_! That could have been a complete disaster! Had the rose been destroyed, any hope would have been destroyed with it. Of course I panicked. Of course I yelled at her. She could have sealed all our fates in a moment.

But once the adrenaline and rage subsided, I suddenly found myself wondering why I cared. I had lost all hope. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never learn to love, much less would anyone love me. So why was I so panicked at the thought of the rose being harmed? Why was I worried about protecting hope that no longer existed within me?

Could this girl's arrival have given me a glimmer of hope? No. That was impossible. At least I was not about to admit to any such foolish notion. I could not love her. And even if I could, she could not love me.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as I heard a knock on my door. I knew that knock. When you have the keen ears of an animal, you learn to distinguish between very similar sounds that human ears cannot distinguish. This was definitely the sound of Mrs. Potts' spout rapping on my door. She did not wait for a response before the door opened and the teapot entered. By the look on her face, I knew I was in for a lecture.

"All right Master," she said in a no-nonsense voice I'd heard often since childhood. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"She came here," I said simply. "Into this wing. Into this room."

"I see," Mrs. Potts said. "And let me guess. You treated her to a tantrum, right?"

"I yelled at her," I said. "But she shouldn't have been here."

"I'll grant she shouldn't have," Mrs. Potts said. "But giving the poor girl such a fright can't possibly have been necessary, could it?"

"She gave _me_ a fright," I said gruffly. "She was investigating the rose. Do you realize what it would have meant if she'd destroyed it? Any shred of hope would be gone."

"Well let me tell you something," Mrs. Potts said sternly. "The first shred of hope any of us have had since the curse fell upon us has just fled from your wrath."

"She's gone?" I asked. "You let the prisoner escape?"

"We tried to stop her sir," she said. "But yes, she is gone. But you know what? I'm not worried about her being an escaped prisoner. I'm not even worried about the spell. Right now what fills me with absolute horror is knowing that poor girl is out in the cold, at night, at a time when the wolves like to prowl around that forest."

"Wolves..." I said, sudden fear gripping me for what reason I wasn't quite sure. I grabbed the mirror. "Show me the girl."

She was riding her horse through the forest, and I could hear wolves howling in the background. It wouldn't be long before they had her cornered.

"They're on her trail," I said, putting the mirror down. It suddenly occurred to me that she could be killed, and it would pretty much be my fault.

"What are you going to do about it?" Mrs. Potts asked pointedly. "Search yourself Master, _please_. Can you not find a shred of humanity within you to do all in your power not to let her be dinner for those wolves?"

I found I didn't have to search long or hard. I realized the fear that gripped me was some hidden humanity that couldn't just let her be killed by wolves.

"If I hurry and go on all fours maybe I have a chance," I said.

I rushed downstairs on all fours, taking half of the staircase in a single stride. Out the door, through the gates, and into the forest I went. I ran as fast as I could, letting my animal nose and ears guide me. Finally I came to a stop as I saw the girl waving a stick at the wolves. She was no match. I jumped right into the fray.

It all happened so fast. Wolves ripped at my flesh. I ripped at theirs. I threw wolves around. I roared. And finally they ran off. I turned to the girl who stood next to her horse, and knew I'd saved her from becoming wolf food. As the adrenaline abated and the pain started setting in, I collapsed into the snow. My breaths came hard and the pain grew intense. I was sure I would soon hear the sound of her horse walking away. No spell would be broken. I would more than likely die here from lying in the snow in my weakened state, or the wolves would be back and I would be their dinner. But it didn't matter. I had nearly killed her by scaring her straight into the pack of wolves. At least she was now spared that fate, and wouldn't die so gruesomely on my account. So I just lay there waiting for my own fate to come.

I suddenly felt something being placed on me. I looked up and thought I saw her covering me with her cloak. No. That couldn't be right. I must be delirious. She wouldn't help me. But then she spoke words that seemed to suggest otherwise.

"You have to help me," she whispered. "You have to stand."

My head sank back into the snow. Seriously, standing was the last thing I wanted to do. I wasn't even sure I could. I figured if I just lay there, she'd go away. But she didn't.

"I have to get you back to the castle," she said. "I can't get you up onto my horse without your assistance. Just rest for a moment while I get Philippe and bring him over. But then you'll have to stand."

I wearily watched as she went over to her horse and led him over. The horse was clearly not thrilled about being led to a creature like me, but she was firm in her insistence. Once the horse was beside me, she turned back and knelt beside me.

"Ready to stand?" she asked.

I groaned.

"Why are you here?" I asked weakly. "Why haven't you left?"

"Because I am not going to leave you to be eaten by wolves," she said resolutely. She took my horns in her hands and raised my head. "Now you really do need to help me to help you here. You can rest when you're on the horse."

As she held my head up by the horns, I sat up, which was no small feat. I felt dazed. And I hurt. A lot. I just sat there.

"Just let me lay back down," I groaned. "Go. I can't...I don't have much strength left."

I tried to sink back down into the snow, but she was stubborn and would not allow my head to lower.

"What strength you do have left," she said, "will not be wasted, ebbing away in the snow. It will be used to get on Philippe. Then you can lean forward onto his neck and rest."

With a sigh, I slowly rose. She stood as I got myself up onto my knees. She then let go of my horns and put her hands on my upper arms. I struggled to get my feet underneath me. Once this was accomplished, she spoke again.

"Put your paws on top of Philippe," she said. "That will help you pull yourself to a stand."

I did this, and she had to calm her horse who was spooked by me. Once standing she helped me to mount the horse. She picked up her cloak which had fallen to the ground when I sat up and went to cover me again with it. I noticed she was shivering and shook my head. Which in my dizzy state was probably not wise.

"You need that," I said drowsily. "You lack fur."

At least this stubborn maiden had the good sense not to argue with that, and she put her cloak back on and fastened it. Then she told me to rest and, as she led the horse back toward the castle, I allowed the lethargy to finally take hold and sank forward to lay on the horse's neck.

As consciousness faded, one curiosity lingered longer than anything else. I had frightened her into fleeing into a pack of hungry wolves. I nearly killed her with those wolves. So why on earth was she helping me now?


	3. At My Side

I don't remember much of the ride back. I wondered why she was helping me after I had caused her near fatality, but that was all I remember. All, that is, until I was being guided off of the horse and...into my bed? I figured I must be missing something. Horses don't appear in bedrooms. But I could soon tell that it was her horse I was dismounting, and my bed I was being laid in.

"He's semi-conscious," I heard the girl tell the staff that had gathered around. "I'll need to tend to these wounds. Can somebody please gather something to clean and bandage them with while I take Philippe out to the stable?"

"We'll get supplies around right away dear," Mrs. Potts said.

I heard hooves as the horse was led away. I heard the staff moving around. I did not see it though, for my eyes were closed. I was just starting to drift off when I felt a hand on my arm, causing me to startle. She had returned.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I'm going to clean your wounds now. It may sting but I need you to hold still."

But I'm not one to hold still, especially when something causes pain. So I pulled away. I yelled out as the hot, wet cloth touched a wound.

"That hurts!" I yelled.

"If you held still it wouldn't hurt as much!" she retorted.

"Well if you hadn't run away," I pointed out, "none of this would have happened!"

"If you hadn't frightened me I wouldn't have run away!"

I knew she was right. I knew it was because of my actions she'd fled. But I'm not used to conceding an argument.

"Well _you_ shouldn't have been in the west wing!" I said.

"Well _you_ should learn to control your temper!" she returned.

I had no comeback for this. I finally had to concede defeat, though I would not do so out loud. My silence was as good of a concession as I could do. I gasped as the hot cloth again made contact with a wound, but allowed her to do what she needed to do without further protest.

"Now try to get some rest," she said as she moved away.

I heard the staff thank her for her help. I was just about to drift off when I heard her voice, full of genuine curiosity, ask them why they cared so much about me. Mrs. Potts told her they'd looked after me my whole life.

"But he's cursed you somehow," she observed. "Why? You did nothing."

 _Oh wonderful_ , I thought. _She's figured out we're under a curse. She'll probably ask questions about it. I hope they have enough sense left to refrain from telling her how it can be lifted._

Mrs. Potts explained that doing nothing was the problem. That when my mother died and my father took what she referred to as 'that sweet, innocent lad', and twisted me up just like he was, they did nothing to intervene.

I silently wished they didn't blame themselves, though I wasn't sure why I suddenly cared about that. Perhaps that rare prick of conscience. But as my history was explained to the young woman, I felt ashamed, and it was more than the odd prick. And I did not believe that 'sweet, innocent lad' was an appropriate way to describe me. There was no sweetness in me. No innocence either. Apparently Mrs. Potts thought there was a long time ago, but I didn't know why it mattered now. The sweet, innocent lad, if ever I truly was one, was long gone. It seemed hardly worth mentioning that there was ever anything sweet or innocent about me. If there ever was, that was then. And this is now. I finally drifted off for a bit, and awoke to find her in the chair beside my bed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Like I've been chewed on by wolves," I said simply.

"Do you think you can drink something?" she asked. "You've lost plenty of blood. I don't want you getting dehydrated."

"Sure," I said.

As she took a glass of water from the nightstand, I lifted a paw to take it, but the pain that ensued caused me to drop it back down.

"I'll hold it," she said.

She then slid her free hand under my head and lifted it up a bit before bringing the glass to my lips. I had a few sips before turning my face from the glass, indicating I'd had enough for now. She put the glass back down and lowered my head back to the pillow, sliding her hand out from underneath.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Sitting by me?"

"In case you need anything," she said. "And to make sure you're as comfortable as possible."

"But..." I said, still not understanding, "I have a full staff. Prisoners are not under any such obligation. And you're an escaped one and I in no condition to recapture you lying out in that snow. Why did you bring me back? And take it upon yourself to help me? You could have left me to my fate. And I wasn't exactly encouraging you to bring me back. So...why?"

"Do I have to be obligated to do so?" she asked. "Are you so unaccustomed to have someone show kindness for the sake of kindness, without having to?"

"I..." I was rather taken aback by the question. "I...am unaccustomed to that yes. If someone is seeing to my needs or comfort, it is because it falls within their job description."

"They do genuinely care about you," she said. "And while going through the motions of meeting your needs may be their obligation, they cannot be made to care as they do. That is out of their kindness. Though you don't make it particularly easy for people to want to show you kindness. You do have a temper that is very easily provoked."

Wait, did she just say my staff actually genuinely cared about me? I may have sort of known it on some level, but never have I heard it so plainly spoken to me, and hearing that they cared about me out of kindness was rather bizarre. And she was right, I wasn't particularly easy to be kind to for the sake of it. Which confused me further.

"So why did you do it?" I asked. "Why didn't you just leave me to my fate?"

"Let me answer that question with a question," she said. "Why didn't you leave me to mine? I mean I assume you did come after me to recapture me, but once you saw me at the mercy of the wolves...surely recapturing your prisoner wasn't worth you possibly losing your life?"

"Mrs. Potts told me you fled," I said. "She brought up the concern about the wolves. I guess I didn't like the idea of you being eaten."

"So," she said, "you did it because somewhere there's some kindness within you."

"Oh I wouldn't go so far as to say that," I said. "Any kindness that _may_ have once resided inside of me has been extinguished long ago."

I felt quite ashamed of this fact. She must have sensed it, seen it in my eyes or something, for her face took on a look of pity. I sighed. Then a question occurred to me.

"What was your name again?" I asked. "I'm sure your father spoke it but I'm not recalling."

"Belle," she said. "My name is Belle."

"Belle," I repeated. A name that means 'beauty'. Fitting for her.

"What's yours?" Belle asked.

"Huh?" I responded. "Oh I don't really have one anymore. I'm just...the Beast."

"I see," she said. "Well you should try to go back to sleep."

She was right. I closed my eyes, but immediately opened them.

"By the way Belle," I said, "if you're going to be in here...in my room... _do_ refrain from touching the rose. I'm serious. Harming it is...dangerous. It need not lose petals faster than it already is."

"All right," she said. "I'll stay away from it. Now sleep."

Some time later I awoke to find Belle gone but Lumiere was on my nightstand.

"How are you Master?" he asked.

"Funny question to ask someone who got chewed on by wolves," I growled, though more because that's just how my voice was than actual anger. "Belle's gone?"

For some reason I was mildly disappointed she wasn't at my side. I didn't know why, but I was. Guess she was done sitting at the bedside of a creature.

"She was reluctant to leave," the candelabra said. "But Mrs. Potts insisted she retire to her own room to get some sleep. She only agreed to go if someone would stay with you. I've no doubt Master that she is the one who'll break the spell."

I groaned.

"Are we _really_ going there again Lumiere?" I asked. "Need I remind you about the dinner debacle? You know, that whole incident at her door that directly resulted from you getting it in your head to get us together?"

"That was a slight setback," Lumiere said. "But she did bring you back after the wolf incident, and stayed with you until we insisted she go to bed. Do you really see no hope at all with her?"

I wanted to see hope. But wouldn't allow myself to. It would only be foolish.

"I've given up all hope years ago Lumiere," I said. "And there's no reason to start hoping now. As soon as I'm recovered she'll stay as far away from me as she can."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Lumiere said.

"Of course you wouldn't," I said.

"But you must finally learn to love," Lumiere reminded me.

"Right," I said. "I don't know what's more unlikely. A Beast learning to love or a girl learning to love a Beast." I sighed. "It was my inability to love that got us into this mess, remember?"

"I do," Lumiere said. "And I also remember that it's you finding the ability to love that's half the solution to getting us out of it."

"Let's say I can manage that," I said. "You assume the other half of the solution is possible."

"You assume it's not," was Lumiere's rejoinder.

"Why try?" I asked. "It will only lead to disappointment when the spell becomes permanent."

"Because if you don't try," Lumiere said, "the spell will _definitely_ become permanent. And you'll lose your entire staff."

"I know," I said, having one of my guilt pricks which seemed to be getting a bit less rare. Something then occurred to me. "By the way, I overheard her mention figuring out there was a curse. And Mrs. Potts told her how I became the person that brought it upon us. She's likely to ask questions. You do have enough sense left to know not to tell her how to break it, right?"

"Oui Master," he said. "But what can we tell her? Because she probably will ask questions."

"I think..." I said, "that anything through what happens should the last petal fall should be all right. But the enchantress said never to tell anyone how the curse might be lifted, lest they try to fall in love with me out of pity, which wouldn't really be love. But don't offer her any information unless she asks."

"Right," Lumiere said. "You should get back to sleep Master."

The next morning I awoke to Belle's voice. I kept my eyes closed though for the time being.

"Good morning," she said. "How's he doing?"

"Seems to be resting peacefully," Mrs. Potts said.

"He awoke once after you went to bed," Lumiere said. "I think he was slightly disappointed not to see you, but I told him we had made you retire."

I had to stifle a groan. Did Lumiere _have_ to tell her I had hoped to see her? Was that _really_ necessary?

"How did you sleep dear?" Mrs. Potts asked.

"Fine, thank you," Belle said. "But upon awakening I was anxious to get back here to check on him. At some point I should check his wounds. Maybe clean them a bit more."

Well I wasn't looking forward to that.

"I have a question," Belle said.

Here we go. Hopefully the staff would not say too much. Lumiere understood where the line was. But the others?

"Before I ran away," she said, "he found me about to touch the rose. He said I could have...well to put it in slightly less coarse terms, condemned all of you. And last night he said if I'm to be in here with him to leave it alone as harming it would be dangerous. Why is that? What would happen?"

Her mincing of my words was not lost on me. It occurred to me, to a bit of embarrassment, that the word I used for 'condemned' was probably not something a gentleman ought to utter in front of a lady. But why did I find myself caring? After all, I'm a lot of things but a gentleman is not among them.

"You could have destroyed it," Mrs. Potts said. "Or at least caused the petals to fall faster, causing the last petal to fall before it otherwise will."

There was a moment of silence before Belle asked another question.

"What happens when the last petal falls?"

"The master remains a Beast forever," Lumiere said sadly. "And we become..."

"Antiques," Mrs. Potts said.

"Knickknacks," Lumiere said.

"Rubbish!" Cogsworth put in harshly. "We become rubbish!"

One of those pricks of guilt hit again. These were beginning to get more frequent.

"I want to help you," Belle said. "There must be some way to break the curse."

"Well there is one way," Cogsworth said.

 _Oh no,_ I thought. _Don't go there Cogsworth_. Thankfully Lumiere silenced the mantel clock.

"That's not for you to worry about lamb," Mrs. Potts said. "We made our bed. Now we must lie in it."

I was really beginning to wish these guilt pricks would stop. I was really not used to feeling guilty for what was happening to others, and it was really uncomfortable.

But wait! Did Belle just say she wanted to help? Maybe there was some hope in this girl. Maybe she could...but no. I was too hideous. Too unlovable. I just would not let myself hope. I'd stopped hoping long ago. No one could love me, even if by some miracle I learned to love.

After dozing again, I awoke to find Belle in the chair by my bedside.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Everyone keeps asking me that," I said. "Well you and Lumiere both did yesterday. How do you think one would feel when one has been _chewed on by wolves_? It tends to make you feel like...you've been chewed on by wolves. It hurts."

"Well," she said, "is the pain any better? Worse? The same?"

"I'd say about the same," I said.

"I'd like to clean those wounds a bit more thoroughly than I got to last night," Belle said. "I knew it hurt and didn't want to torture you too much before you've had a chance to get some sleep. But we don't want them getting infected. Then I'll bandage them."

I let out a groan.

"I'll be gentle," she said. "My aim is to help you, not cause you more pain. But that's an inevitable part of wound cleaning. The more you can hold still, the less pain it will cause."

"Fine," I grumbled.

I held still as she cleaned the wounds. It was obvious she was trying to be as gentle as possible. But it still hurt and I grunted at times. When finished, she bandaged the wounds.

"I'll change the bandaging daily," she said. "But they're clean now, so I shouldn't have to do the cleaning part again. The bandages will keep them clean."

She did this over the next several days. And quite often I would awake to find her sitting at my side. Somehow, and I'm sure it was without her trying, she was beginning to chip away at the hard barrier around my heart. There was something about her choosing, of her own accord, with no reason other than her kindness, to sit by me as I convalesced, that was touching something within me. And it was starting to get hard to deny that there seemed like there might be a glimmer of hope. As determined as I was not to hope, it sure was getting more difficult.


	4. Hideousness Revealed

*****Chapter edited. Just adding a couple things inspired by GodlyJewel's review of the chapter. And GJ, it's not too weird your mind goes to how she negotiates his tail while helping him dress. Heck, my mind had to go to "hey, dude's gotta pee here!". I neglected eating and the _other_ waste product, yet of all the mundane things involved with daily life he might need help with, it's the bladder I attach to. *****

 **This installment was going to cover the time around Belle's quoting Shakespeare, Beast finishing the quote, and library reveal. But thanks to GodlyJewel for pointing out a couple visual details (like fever implications) and Beast likely being embarrassed with the view Belle's getting, looks like another bedridden chapter is in order! Plus, isn't it interesting how bedridden characters conveniently don't seem to need to relieve themselves? I'm feeling gutsy, so let's take care of that detail, shall we? It'll give poor Beast something else to be embarrassed about. Poor guy.**

 **Also, GodlyJewel or anyone, since the timeline of Belle's tenure in the castle is rather ambiguous, I'm wondering what a realistic recovery timeline might be from when she brings him back to the castle to when he is able to leave his bed for the library reveal? I'm thinking a few days to a week? Possibly a bit longer if he ends up with a fever which would seem to imply an infected wound.**

 **Hmm. I just did a little research on 18th century wound care. Looks like maybe Belle shouldn't have known the wounds should be cleaned/dressed, since the concept of germs and such wasn't really a thing. No wonder Maurice said she was ahead of her time (I know that's not quite why he said it)! Had this wolf incident actually happened, it seems more likely Belle would have been able to do little more than try to keep him comfortable until he more than likely would have passed, since in a real life scenario she probably wouldn't have known that wolves' mouths are full of bacteria and the wounds would need to be kept clean. Interesting. I knew 18th century medicine was primitive by our standards, but I didn't know it was _that_ primitive. Seems Belle is practicing 19th century wound care. Lucky for Beast she is ahead of her time, isn't it?**

I woke up several days after the wolf attack feeling...much worse. It seemed Belle could tell immediately upon entering my room in the morning.

"You're not looking so well this morning," she observed frankly. "How do you feel? Worse I gather?"

"Uh-huh," I managed weakly.

She placed a hand to my forehead. I smiled slightly in spite of myself.

"You have a fever," she said. "I'm not looking forward to seeing your wounds today. Something may have become infected despite my efforts to clean them. Any wound more painful than it has been?"

"Shoulder..." I whispered.

"I'll check that one last," Belle said.

She removed the bandages from all except my shoulder. She commented that they were healing nicely.

"I may only need to rebandage a couple of these," she said. "I'll do that and then take a look at the shoulder wound. I suspect that's what's causing you to become ill. Actually I'll rebandage everything. If the shoulder wound is infected I don't want to contaminate other wounds."

Once she rebandaged the healing wounds, she removed the bandage from my shoulder. This really hurt. Seems that there was a lot of fluid produced by the wound and it dried, adhering the dressing to the wound. I tried not to flinch as she peeled the bandage away.

"Oh dear," she said. "This is definitely our problem. I'm sorry Beast. There's no way to deal with this without hurting you. I know patience doesn't come easy for you especially when pain is involved but for your own sake I need you to muster all you have. You've been doing well but I'm afraid this will really test you."

"I don't think I have the strength to fight if I wanted to," I admitted. "Just do what you must. As fast as you can."

She worked as gently as she could. It amazed me that she made such an effort to cause as little pain as possible when causing pain could not be helped. I wasn't sure why she tried, but appreciated that she did. Once the bandage was finally pulled off, she inspected the wound carefully.

"It's oozing," she said. "Very red and swollen. I haven't seen a wound this bad. I don't suppose there's a doctor on your staff?"

"No," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I'm not entirely sure how to treat this. I'll definitely need to clean it out again I am sorry to say. As much as I don't want to leave it open I think I'll have to. All the stuff that's oozing...I think it's what's making you sick. It needs to drain out I think. Not be trapped inside you."

She cleaned the wound, again as gently as she could. I looked away as she did so, trying to hide the immense pain this ordeal was causing. When she was done, she took a cloth soaked in cool water and laid it across my forehead.

"We need to try to get your fever down," she said. "It should help you feel more comfortable."

"Leaving that wound alone might help me feel more comfortable," I said.

"I know tending to it hurts and I am sorry," Belle said. "But if I don't do anything about it...I'm afraid it may just prove fatal."

I turned my head to look at her. I could see in her eyes that she was _genuinely_ _concerned_ for my life. She was _actually worried_ that I might die and did not want that to happen. I was not sure why.

It took a few days for the wound to finally start healing and for my fever to break. And then, as I started feeling stronger, something very embarrassing occurred to me. Belle had been getting a very good view of my hideousness. I had no shirt so she could access my wounds. And I now realized I had no pants, though she kept a blanket over my lower half to cover things she should not see on man nor beast, apparently trying to preserve some shred of dignity for me. But I soon found why my lower half was clothed with nothing but a blanket. I started squirming, which apparently Belle had learned meant the call of nature must be answered, for she quickly grabbed a pan and slipped it under the blanket between my legs. I relieved myself and she slipped the pan back out from under the blanket and dumped the contents into the chamberpot a few feet from my bed. I suppose I was unable to hide the utter humiliation from my face, for she gave me a look of sympathy.

"Everyone has to do it," she said gently.

"Everyone does it into a chamberpot without an audience," I said shamefully.

"You're too weak for that yet," she said. "I'm sorry. I try to help you in a way so as to keep your dignity intact. I am careful to make sure you stay covered...down there."

"You've seen more of what I am than you should have," I said pathetically. "Just by tending my wounds. And you also find yourself tending to business you never should have to tend to even if I were a man. Do you not remember I have servants, most male?"

I was truly, utterly humiliated. My hideousness had been fully revealed to her. And if that wasn't bad enough, she has had to see to my elimination needs.

There was no way she'd ever come to love me now. Any hope that had managed to slip into my heart since she had started tending to me had now disappeared. She had simply seen way, way too much.

"I remember," she said softly. "But most don't have hands, or if they do they're not hands well suited for helping one quite the way you require. Besides, I was already tending to you. When I saw you needing to answer nature's call it was just automatic that I'd help with it."

A few days later I was strong enough she said I might be able to use the chamberpot. I wanted her to step out, but she insisted on staying in case I should fall and require assistence.

"Chapeau can handle that," I pointed out.

"Chapeau," Belle said. "Right, remind me who that is again? He's the coat rack is he not?"

"He is," I said with a small nod.

"He won't be able to support your weight if you need it," Belle said. "If you fall on him he'll be crushed."

"You don't think I could crush you?" I asked.

"I've a much better chance at not being crushed than someone made of wood," she said.

"Fine," I acquiesced.

She held the blanket up between us so that I could have some semblance of privacy. Thankfully I managed to do my business without needing help.

"Okay," Belle said. "You're strong enough. And I think your wounds won't need as much care. Would you like to be in some clothes?"

"I've wanted that for days," I said. "At least I won't have to inflict my entire hideous body on you anymore."

Embarrassingly, Belle did have to help me get dressed. I had never known that relieving myself could be so exhausting. I definitely had some more recuperating to do. I thought of insisting she send Chapeau to aid me in dressing, but decided not to argue. I did wish it was Chapeau once the waistband of my pants was inserted in the rather sensitive spot under my tail at its base. I gave a yelp of pain and surprise.

"Sorry," Belle said. "Um...how do you put pants on with...your tail?"

"Well," I said, reaching back with a paw and grabbing my tail and pulling it out of the way, "I generally put it through the hole you'll find just under the waistband you nearly amputated it with, put there specifically to accommodate the tail and avoid said amputation."

"That's logical," Belle said, quickly locating the hole and assisting me in getting my tail through it.

I was sure now more than ever that once fully recovered, Belle would be keeping as much distance between the two of us as she possibly could. And I could not blame her for that. Adding onto everything, she now got up close and personal with my tail!

She surprised me that night though before she retired.

"Beast," she said tentatively, "what did you mean earlier about no longer having to... _inflict_ your body on me?"

"What do you think I meant?" I asked. "Surely you're observant enough to notice my body is a hideous one?"

"Well, don't you think _inflict_ is a rather strong word to reference me seeing you?" she asked. "I saw more fur than I did before. But my horse Philippe is covered in fur and I certainly don't think he's inflicting anything on me when I see him."

"Then you had to interact with my tail," I said, as if that would surely prove my appearance to be an infliction.

"Philippe has a tail," she pointed out. Then she put a hand gently on my arm. "I tend not to put too much stock on how one looks. I judge one by who they are."

"Then you know I'm hideous," I said. "You've gotten a good view of _who I am_ right from when we met in the tower."

"Hmm," Belle said thoughtfully. "Is that who you are? I'd have said so at that point, but now I wonder if you're not hiding who you are behind layers of shame and anger. Were there not some good in you would you have risked your life to save me from the wolves? And even if you had absent some good, you'd not have attempted to be a patient...patient."

I did not know what to say to this, so silence fell before she spoke again.

"Do you need anything else before I retire?" she asked. "I'll send someone in to sit with you of course."

"I'm all right," I said. "And now that we know I can see to my own most basic needs that even the staff are not usually privy to, you needn't send anyone in. I don't think I've spent a moment alone since the wolf attack. A night of solitude would be nice."

"Well I suppose you're strong enough," Belle said. "You can yell out for someone if you need anything?"

"I think I can manage," I said.

"All right," she said, then patted my arm and stood. "Goodnight."

Once finally alone, I came to the realization that yet another piece of hard barrier around my melancholy heart had crumbled away.


	5. She Likes To Read A lot

**All righty then! Let's tackle the library reveal, shall we? I love it how the live-action reveal was pretty much accidental. "Oh you want to know what's better than Romeo and Juliet eh? Okay well check this out" having no idea she's going to be beside herself when she sees that ginormous library.**

 **Thanks to GodlyJewel for pointing out some visual details of the on-screen stuff that I'd otherwise miss.**

It was the day after the incident with my tail. I was really wanting to get out of bed. All this convalescing was starting to make me restless. I awoke after a bit of a doze to hear Belle's voice. She was quoting Shakespeare. I thought this was interesting. I recognized the passage as coming from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and finished the line.

"You know Shakespeare?" she asked in apparent surprise.

"I had an expensive education," I said looking over my shoulder at her.

"Actually," she said, "Romeo And Juliet is my favorite play."

This revelation inspired in me an _utmost_ lack of enthusiasm.

"Why is that not a surprise?" I groaned.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"All that heartache and pining..." I said, then my tongue came out as I gagged in utter disgust. "There are so many better things to read."

"Like what?" she asked in a tone I took to be a challenge, as if she couldn't imagine that I could suggest something better.

Well all right then. I would take the challenge. It would give me an excuse to get out of this bed. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"Do you need to..." Belle seemed to be suddenly trying to figure out how to not embarrass me. "You're strong enough I think I can step out...unless you think you might need help?"

Oh. That's why she seemed concerned about causing embarrassment. She thought I had to relieve myself.

"I thought you were asking what better things there are to read?" I said.

"I was," Belle said. "But then you sat up. So I assume nature is calling."

"I see," I said. I then stood and took up a jacket and put it on. "Well the answer to your question lies a bit farther than the chamberpot. Besides, I've languished in bed long enough. I'm getting restless."

"Oh are you sure you should be moving around?" Belle asked. "I'd hate to see you regress in your recovery by moving too much too fast."

"Too much too fast," I scoffed. "It's more like too little too slow. I'll be fine. Now, are you wanting an answer to your question? If so I suggest you follow me, because otherwise you'll be sitting there staring at an empty bed."

And so she followed. There were a couple times I had to slow down to catch my breath, but I had regained most of my strength. Turning down a corridor I spoke again.

"So, you want to know something better than Romeo and Juliet?"

"That I do," she said. Her tone suggested she figured anything I might produce was likely to prove amusing.

We came to a door, which I opened and walked in.

"Well, there are a couple things in here you could start with," I said.

I was walking through my library. A room I had been in many times. It was not odd to me, all the books, and it didn't occur to me that anyone would be taken aback by it. So I wasn't sure what to make of the situation when I looked and saw her expression of...I wasn't sure what.

"You all right?" I asked.

"It's wonderful," was her response.

"Yes," I said, looking around. "I suppose it is."

Here I was, standing in a room I had always taken for granted, so much so that I had to think about it to appreciate it. And here she was, looking for all the world like she had just walked into a treasure trove! If I didn't know better I'd say she looked absolutely overjoyed!

And strangely, I found myself wanting her to stay that way. It was quite a new experience for me. Pretty much my whole life the only happiness I sought was my own. And here I was wanting someone else, a prisoner no less, serving out her father's life sentence for theft, to be happy.

"Well if you like it so much it's yours," I said and began to casually walk away.

"Have you really read every one of these books?"

Her words brought me to a halt.

"Huh?" I asked. "Oh, well, not all of them." Then I said dryly, "some of them are in Greek."

"Is that a joke?" Belle asked with a chuckle. "Are you making jokes now?"

Wait a minute, was that a joke? I've been known for many things but humor was not something I had a particular reputation for. But it seemed perhaps I had made a joke. I'd at least said something that amused her.

"Maybe," I said, then walked away and left her to her books.

Just before I was far enough away for her to be out of earshot, I heard her gleeful squeal. And all I had done was give her a library. Just a collection of books. Sure I like to read myself, but apparently she really, _really_ likes to read. A lot. I smiled to know this brought her joy.

My goodness, was I beginning to fall for her? Maybe. But no. It couldn't happen. And if it did she'd never fall for me. With me now out of bed, and her with an entire library to amuse her, I was sure I'd be seeing a lot less of her. Sure she'd been polite, and out of her kindness tried to make me as comfortable as possible with how much of my grotesque form she saw. But now that she didn't need to take care of me anymore, I was sure she would keep her distance.

And it surprised me how much of a sting this realization was for me. Her reaction to the library had breathed new life into this melancholy atmosphere. There was an energy about her I wanted to be close to as much as possible. So it hurt to realize she would want to keep away from me. But at least, I was sure, she would soon find some better reading material than Romeo and Juliet.


	6. Talking And Dining

**Okay, I read a movie review that basically said, to paraphrase, "were they so intent to copy things in the animated movie that they had to have him dive into his food like a dog? He's an adult here when cursed and he can read and is generally more adult-like in mannerism and yet he eats like a dog with his face in the bowl just to copy that from the animated movie? Really?". Well, I have a theory as to why he may have taken to an eating habit incongruous with his general character, and plan to address it here.**

 **Also some talking before and after the meal.**

The knock on my door was a surprise. It did not sound like one of the staff. By how high up it was, the only servant it could have been was Chapeau. But I knew Chapeau's knock, and this wasn't quite it. I was trying to figure out who else it might be when a familiar voice gave me a surprising answer.

"Beast?" Belle called. "Are you in there?"

It was a few hours after I had given her the library, sure she would avoid me now.

"I'm here," I said. "What is it?"

The door opened slowly and she walked in. She found me sitting in the chair she'd spent the better part of the last week or so in. I guess I was there to sort of, in a way, be close to her, if not physically, since I was sure she'd now avoid my direct presence. I was certainly not expecting her to seek me out now.

"Have you been in here since you left me in the library?" she asked. "Are you all right? Was that trip to the library too much for you?"

"I'm fine," I said. "You...came to check on me?"

"Well yes," she said. "I was concerned you were taking on too much activity. Remember you had that setback with the infected shoulder in the not too distant past."

"Perhaps not too distant past," I granted. "But still past."

"You look a little downcast," she said. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure," I said, making a point to offer a small smile, embarrassed she'd picked up on my melancholy mood.

"Hmm," she said. She crossed the distance between us. "Forced smile I see." She placed a hand to my forehead. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yes Belle," I said, rolling my eyes. And yet my smile was a bit less forced, because I was now a bit amused. "I'm sure. See? No fever here. Are you satisfied?"

"Well," she said, offering a smile. "I suppose I am. In fact I don't suppose you're up for another trip out of your room? I wondered if perhaps you wanted to come down to the dining room to eat? Your meals have been taken cooped up in here and really you've had little more than broth in a cup. I wondered if you maybe wanted to join me for a proper meal?"

This surprised me, and I sat there staring at her for a moment.

"Join you?" I asked incredulously. "Didn't you prefer starving to eating with me?" A guilt-inducing realization suddenly hit me. "Oh. That's just it isn't it? You...I hope you haven't actually been going without food this whole time I've been recuperating. That first night...what I said...I was out of line. You are not obligated to eat with me to-"

"Oh no," she cut in. "I've eaten. The staff sometimes had to practically pull me away from your side to get me to eat. I just thought...well that first night...things started out pretty poorly. I wondered if perhaps we could have the dinner together that wasn't possible then."

"You..." I was nearly at a loss for words, "...you _want_ to eat with me?"

"Why do you sound as if you simply can't believe your ears?" Belle asked.

"Well," I said, "since I'm recovered from the wolf attack, I figured you'd want as much distance between us as possible. And now you've got an entire library to be occupied with, it's not like you don't have anything to do. So why would you want to willingly place yourself around the creature who is holding you captive?"

"That is an interesting and very good question," Belle said thoughtfully. I was sure she'd now see it as silly and say never mind. But she didn't. "I suppose if you were _just_ my captor, I wouldn't. And since you _are_ my captor, I suppose I shouldn't. But you're also someone who threw himself at the mercy of an entire pack of wolves so I wouldn't perish. You're someone who doesn't seem offended that I read, even if your enthusiasm for my particular taste in books is rather underwhelming. Besides, with all those books, perhaps I'll find a new book to be my favorite, maybe one you'd like a bit more. What passes for a library in Villeneuve is a collection of...not quite a dozen books the local priest has in his church." She paused before continuing. "I guess most of all, I still don't really know who you are. It's like I get glimpses that tell me the one who would lock a man away on a _life sentence_ for picking a flower isn't...I don't know. It's like there's some dichotomy between someone who imposes such a penalty for what most would consider a rather minor offense and who you really are. It's like you have a wall, a barrier up for some reason. You made that joke in the library... _maybe_. I wouldn't have taken you as someone with a sense of humor. I guess before I completely write you off as someone to be around, I want to know just _who_ I am writing off. Not just the part that isn't barricaded behind a wall."

Wait, did she say she wanted to know who I am? And did she just mention the barrier I built up to guard my heart? I had put that barrier up to keep people out. Anyone I had ever let into my heart had hurt me in some way. My mother died. My father who I then looked up to was barely around, mistreated me when he was around, and then died. Not that there was any love lost when he died. That love had been lost long ago when I realized it was never really there. In my youthful innocence I had loved my father but I don't think he really ever loved me. Life experience taught me that those allowed into your heart will hurt you. So I put up the wall.

And now this girl was gradually chipping away at that barrier. She _wanted_ to know who was behind it. And in this moment I felt another piece of that fortress crumble away. I had to dissuade her. I had to protect what remained of this invisible wall and start repairing the damage already done.

"You do not know for what you are asking," I said slowly and deliberately. "For all you know, what is behind that wall might be far worse than what is in front of it."

"Perhaps," Belle said. "But all of your staff seem to think there's someone behind the wall worth caring about. And Mrs. Potts said they'd looked after you your whole life. So they must know the person behind the wall. And I believe they all would like to see that person emerge."

"If there ever was someone decent," I said, shame lacing my voice, "that person is long dead and buried. I did not bring this curse upon us because I _pleasantly_ welcomed an old hag who turned out to be an enchantress in disguise. It was quite the opposite."

"That person _is_ most definitely buried, yes," Belle said. "But dead? I'm not buying it. Your voice is haunted by shame and sorrow. Only someone decent would be ashamed of his misdeeds. And I doubt that person wants to be buried." She paused. "I gather when you turned away the enchantress you were already behind a wall."

I took in a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh.

"You have a rather...what's the word...pervasive quality," I observed. "Not many people can so consistently throw at me an argument I am unable to counter. Not without provoking my ire rather quickly. Yet you've done it several times since you arrived and I know it _should_ irritate me to no end and somehow it doesn't. Why is that?"

"Why do you think?" Belle asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"It irritated you in the beginning," she said.

I nodded.

"Well," she said, "what do you think about dinner? We could read while we eat."

"All right," I heard myself say. "Why don't you pick a book for each of us and head to the dining room? Just don't pick anything like Romeo and Juliet for me. I'll be down in a bit."

"All right," Belle said. "Anything in particular you want to read? Or pretty much anything that doesn't involve heartache and pining?"

"Perhaps it's against my better judgement," I said, "but I'll let you pick whatever you think I might like without putting too much restriction on your selection. I'd like to see what you manage to come up with. But yes, no heartache and pining. _Definitely_ no heartache and pining. Do you think you can handle that?"

"What I manage to come up with?" she said, trying to sound offended but I could tell she was actually amused, even in a playful mood. "Do I think I could handle it? Sir, you seem to doubt my taste in literature. Are you sure you want me to pick a book for you?"

"Well, like I say it may be against my better judgement," I said. "But yes, I'm sure. Just remember..."

"No heartache and pining, right," she said. "Well I'll see you in the dining room. I'll need a few minutes for book selection. Does twenty minutes sound good?"

"Sounds fine," I said.

Once Belle had departed, I sat stunned. What just happened here? Had Belle just asked me to join her for dinner? Had she just said she wanted to get to know me? Yes, she had. She's certainly an interesting girl. And I was finding that the glimmers of hope were starting to get harder to ignore, harder to explain away.

Belle was already in the dining room when I arrived. She had set a book at my place. I looked at the title and chuckled.

"It's not in Greek," Belle said. "But I saw that book on Greek mythology and remembered your comment that was 'maybe' a joke. I couldn't resist."

"Well you seem to have managed," I said. Then slightly playfully, "I'll be searching cover to cover for the _slightest_ trace of heartache and pining. That shall be the true test."

When dinner was served, an uneasy feeling suddenly hit. I was sure Belle would be immediately sorry she wanted to take her meal with me. See, when the curse went into effect, I found my massive, clawed paws had trouble grasping flatware. And then, once I managed to grasp it, there was the issue of getting it around my fangs. It was all so awkward. So I had long since dispensed with cutlery. I was sure she would be appalled by my particular method of eating. Oh well, there's no backing out now. I dove face first into my tomato soup. I looked up to see her staring at me. _Great_ , I thought, _and the first thing she sees me eat is tomato soup. I might as well have just pulled my face out of a deer carcass._

But Belle chuckled. It wasn't out of mockery, surprisingly. It almost seemed to be meant to put me at ease. But I was still a little embarrassed, and sure that our first meal together would be our last. She certainly would not want to see me eat this way again. I said as much after dinner, when we found ourselves sitting near the fire.

"I suppose you're sorry you ever suggested we eat together."

"Not a bit," was her surprising response. "Why would you think that?"

"Well," I said, "my eating habits aren't particularly neat and tidy. I figured you'd be appalled."

"It was a little shocking initially," she admitted. "But I gather it's easier for you that way."

"It is," I confessed. "When my hands became these massive paws, the flatware did not grow accordingly. So getting a good hold on a spoon is...challenging. Then, once an awkward grip is accomplished, try getting the spoon around those large fangs. I gave up on cutlery a long time ago."

"I can understand that," Belle said softly. "Do you have hope of this curse being lifted?"

I wasn't sure how to answer this. I'd lost all hope years ago. Then Belle showed up. This filled the staff with hope, but I resisted. But hope was desperate to sneak back into my heart and was getting harder and harder to resist. And of course she couldn't know she was the reason we had hope at all. I pondered her question for a moment.

"As long as petals remain on the rose," I said slowly, "I suppose there's a faint hope."

"It grows fainter with each petal that falls doesn't it?"

I nodded.

"That's why when you caught me near it," she observed, "there was of course anger, but also fear in your voice when you asked what I did to it."

I nodded again.

"I gathered that when the staff told me what the consequence of the last petal falling was," she said. "Beast I'm so very sorry. I was curious. You don't usually find roses suspended in air under bell jars. That should have been a clue to keep away from it but it just...drew me in."

"I suppose you can't be blamed for that," I said.

"I just wish I knew how the spell might be broken," Belle said. "If I can maybe help in any way. Cogsworth said there's one way it might be lifted, but nobody will tell me what that way is."

"We can't," I said. "We were warned that telling anyone how to lift the curse could prevent it being lifted."

"Why?"

"If someone from the outside is key, and note I said _if_ , then they're not to do what is required out of obligation. Then it wouldn't work."

"But I don't want to help out of a sense of obligation," Belle said. "I want to help because I see all of you suffering under this curse and I care about all of you."

A sudden emotion flooded through me at her words. She said she _cared about all of us_. I realized that _all of us_ had to include _me_. I stood suddenly.

"I...am feeling a bit winded," I said. "I shall retire now. I will see you tomorrow...if you wish. Goodnight Belle."

Without waiting for her response, I fled out of the room and up to the west wing.


	7. Tortured Dream

**Okay, this is completely extracurricular as far as the movie goes as nothing in this chapter happened on screen (save for a reference or two). I likely won't be covering any further movie scenes until DVD release (June 6th is coming! Yay!), since I may have already misplaced a scene and want to be sure of chronology before making further hiccups. Since this story is meant to follow the canon of the movie and not be an AU, I really don't want to warp the chronology of events further than I may have already. But I wanted to do something with the story...don't want it getting too dusty waiting for the DVD to come out. So I thought, hey, why not be mean and torture poor Beastie with a nightmare? And while we're at it, how about we torture him with some thoughts before he falls asleep? Ah poor guy...he really doesn't deserve all the angst, does he? And yet, he's just such an angst-magnet!**

I sat on my bed, stunned. Belle cared about me? She didn't exactly say that specifically, but she implied it. If she cared about all of us, then I must be included. The shock made me flee to my safe haven, the West Wing. .

But it couldn't be. She must have chosen her words erroneously, not meaning to imply that I was included. After all, I am a creature. A monster. A hideous Beast. And I'm her captor. I'm holding her here on a life sentence. And not even her own life sentence. Not long ago it didn't so much bother me. As long as the penalty was being paid for the crime committed I didn't much care who paid it. But now I found myself bothered that someone innocent of any wrong was suffering for someone else's transgression. Sure, she had taken her father's place voluntarily. And yes, she had suggested that she should be the one punished for requesting a rose. But now that I knew her a bit, I doubted she thought her father would procure one the way he had. She did not seem like the type who would approve of common thievery. Yet here she was, serving a life sentence for a crime she did not commit. I doubted she'd have asked for the rose had she known it would not have been honestly obtained. _Liar_ , I remembered her saying in the tower when I called her father a thief. She did not, could not believe him capable of such an offense. Then when she learned that I had spoken the truth, she took the blame upon herself for having made the request, likely feeling she had placed her father in the position to resort to theft. Her undeserved predicament was really bothering me.

And I was sure now that she had not meant to include me when she said she cared about everybody here.

And it hurt to realize this, though I knew I had no right to hope she would care about me.

I lay down on the bed to go to sleep. I desperately needed relief from my thoughts.

Sleeping, unfortunately, proved to be the wrong way to go about getting that relief.

 _I was suddenly not in bed any longer, but on the balcony. How did I get out here? I suddenly realized that someone was in front of me. Someone I did not expect to ever see again. Someone who was dead, yet was now alive before me. Every fiber of my being was filled with dread._

 _"It is bad enough you look like some mutant hybrid of I don't know what!" he said cruelly. "Now you're associating with a lowly peasant girl?"_

 _"She just sort of landed here," I said pathetically. "She's a prisoner. Serving out a life sentence for her-"_

 _"Spare me!" he shouted. "I know why she's here you idiot! What I cannot figure out is why my son is associating himself with her. Haven't I raised you better? Since when does a Prince stoop below his own class? Since when does he spend time with a prisoner?"_

 _"I hadn't planned on it," I said. "It just started happening."_

 _"She should be up in a cell in that tower dungeon!"_

 _"The staff thought it best to give her a proper room."_

 _"And you didn't drag her right back to the cell?" my father spat._

 _"It didn't seem right."_

 _"No!" he cried. "It can't be! Are you really letting yourself go soft?"_

 _"If I ever hope to be anything other than a mutant hybrid I'll have to," I said. "I must learn to love-"_

 _"I know you fool!" he yelled. "What's worse than how you look is how you're cheapening yourself just to regain human form! Besides, she can never love you! Look at you!"_

 _"I know..." I said. "But I have to try. Or I'll be like this for all eternity."_

 _"If you would let yourself go weak just to be a man again than you deserve a cursed eternity!"_

 _My father walked over to the rose and lifted the bell jar, taking the stem between the thumb and index finger of his right hand._

 _"Father!" I cried in horror. "Put it back!"_

 _But instead he ripped a petal off and threw it uncerimoneously to the ground. The castle quaked. I tried to move toward him, but my feet would not move. It was as if my legs had turned to lead, so heavy were they I could not lift them. Another petal was ripped from the stem and discarded. If I strained my ears enough, I could hear some of the staff reacting as the curse took more and more of a hold on them with each petal being ripped off. I tried to reach out to take the rose and save it from further damage. But my arms suffered the same immovable heaviness as my legs._

 _"Stop," I tried to yell, but it only came out as a weak croak._

 _He kept ripping petals off. I tried to close my eyes but could not. I tried to turn my head away but could not. I had no choice but to watch as what small shred of hope I had left was being ripped away, petal by petal. Finally one petal remained. A malevalent grin crossed my father's face as he grasped the last petal between the fingers of his left hand. I was shaking. I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out._

 _And then it happened. The last petal was mercilessly torn from the stem and thrown aside. The empty stem was thrown in my face. All hope was gone. I was now a Beast forever, and my staff were finally becoming completely inanimate objects. Antiques. Knickknacks. Lightly used houseware. Rubbish. It was all over. All was lost. And I just wanted to die._

I sat bolt upright in bed, panting. I could feel my heart racing. I wasn't sure how I got from the balcony to the bed. I was shaking like a leaf. I glanced toward where the rose was kept. To my utter shock, but also immense relief, the rose was safely under the bell jar, untouched and unharmed. My father was nowhere to be seen. My breathing and heartrate slowed and my shudder subsided as I realized the whole ordeal had been a nightmare. Just a terrible dream.

And, while I was sure Belle would never love me, and that was assuming I could even go so far as learning to love her, and I was sure the spell would never be broken, I resolved to try against all odds.

If for no other reason than to defy my father.

If he was going to haunt my dreams, then I would take pains to defy him.


	8. Another Dream

**Okay, I wasn't going to do any further chapters before DVD release for reasons mentioned in the previous chapter, but I figured after I tortured Beast with a nightmare, I might as well follow it up with some comfort. Though his sense of shame and uncertainty will be explored.**

I tossed and turned. I needed sleep, but was not wanting a repeat of the nightmare from which I'd awoken about ten minutes prior. I shuddered at the memory. Watching the rose that held my fate be demolished petal by petal was horrendous, even if it was just a dream. Finally I succumbed to the need to sleep.

 _Again I was on the balcony. I was pacing. I glanced at the rose, thankful that it was unmolested. Pacing, pacing, pacing. I looked again at the rose. This time, someone was there. Another person from my past was beside its table. I was not filled with dread as I was with my father, and I knew I need not fear for the welfare of the rose. But when I saw who it was I turned away in shame._

 _"My child," her soft voice said by way of address._

 _"Mother..." I said. Why did she have to come see me like this? "Go. Just go. You don't need to look at the mess I am."_

 _"I'm not looking at the mess," she said. "I'm looking at the person who wants to clean it up but erroneously doesn't think he can."_

 _"If you think that person is me," I said softly, "then I'm afraid it is you who is in error. I'm not the son you'd have wanted. I didn't turn out how you'd have hoped."_

 _"I know the sweet child you once were, you still are," she said. "Except you're a man now, but the gentle soul that was within you then is within you now. You just went astray. I'm sorry about that. I wish I didn't have to leave you with your father. He got you going down the wrong path. You just have to get back on the right one."_

 _"I was not cursed to be a creature for having a gentle soul."_

 _"No, you were cursed so that your gentle soul might be able to reemerge."_

 _"It's hopeless," I said. "Who could ever learn to love a Beast?"_

 _She came to me and put a hand on my arm._

 _"Someone who can see the man within perhaps?"_

 _"Right," I said. "Like there's someone out there who can look beyond fur and fangs."_

 _"If you allow someone to see your heart," she said. "And I'm not sure that person is 'out there'. That person might be closer than you think."_

 _She took my paw and led me over to the rose. She placed my paw gently on the bell jar, looking intently at the rose._

 _"It's a good thing she came along when she did," my mother said. "Your time is finite. But Belle just might be able to see beyond the fur and fangs. But you must let down the barrier you have around your heart. Let her see into your soul. You won't know if she can love you, if you don't give her a chance. Don't forget you must learn to love her first."_

 _"Why risk it?" I asked. "Why let myself love her only to find she can't love me?"_

 _"Life is full of risks, my son," she said. "You take a risk either way. Try and risk disappointment. Don't try and risk letting your chance slip away."_

 _I was going to say something, but my mother began to fade._

 _"You can do this my child," she said. "Just give her a chance."_

 _"No..." I said. "Don't leave me!"_

 _She had provided me some peace, despite my initial shame at her presence, and the uncertainty that was still present. I did not want to lose that. But she continued to fade._

 _"You can do this. Give her a chance."_

 _And then she was gone._

I awoke to see sunlight coming in. I sat up and pondered the two dreams I'd had back-to-back. The first shredded any hope I had, causing me to awaken in a panic. The second sought to instill hope within me, and let me sleep on until morning.

I decided that I would cling to the hope.


	9. Mischievous Chip

**Since the DVD is out and I'm now clear on the chronology (I hadn't gone off course yet, but I'm glad I waited for DVD release because I surely would have), this chapter was meant to cover the next movie scene. It was just going to start with some off screen interaction between Beast, Mrs. Potts, and Chip. But with how it played out I decided this interaction deserved it's own chapter. So bear with me, next chapter will actually cover a movie scene.**

 **To answer a guest question, this is based on the new movie (I assume you mean 2017 live-action vs 1991 animated?). I was just putting a couple filler chapters while waiting for the DVD release because I wanted to make sure I wasn't rearranging the chronology of movie events.**

 **Speaking of the 1991 animated movie, in this chapter I hid a reference to it as an Easter egg. Can anybody find the Easter egg?**

I had a lot to think about the next day. That last conversation with Belle that had me fleeing to my bedchamber, then the two very contrasting dreams. I stayed in my room, which prompted a concerned visit from Mrs. Potts when I failed to show for breakfast.

"Are you all right Master?" she asked as she came in on her teacart. With her was her son Chip, who was turned into a teacup. "You've not come for breakfast."

"I'm all right," I said. "Just thinking."

"Don't you think you'll have an easier time breaking the spell if you're hanging around Belle instead of sitting up here in your room thinking?" Chip blurted.

"Chip!" Mrs. Potts said sternly. "Not appropriate. That was rather rude to say to the master."

"Oops," Chip said sheepishly. "Sorry Master."

Just a few days ago Chip's comment likely would have angered me. Now, while I agreed with his mother that it was improper, it almost struck me as slightly comical. Almost.

"Do you want breakfast brought up here sir?" Mrs. Potts asked. "I brought Chip in case you wanted tea, but if you want breakfast I'll bring that up too."

"I'll have a bit of tea," I said. "Then I'll come down to eat."

Mrs. Potts poured tea into Chip and I curled one large finger around his handle. As I took a sip, one of those pangs of guilt made its presence known. I hadn't thought about it before, but it was suddenly occurring to me that a child really shouldn't have to have people drinking out of his head. Even the child of a servant, I realized, deserved a bit more dignity than that. Chip didn't seem to mind though, but sometimes I would overhear him ask his mother if he'd ever be a boy again.

"Wanna see me do a trick?"

 _Oh good grief_ , I thought. _Is he really going to..._

He did. Without waiting for a response, he blew a bubble of tea out of his opening.

"Chip!" Mrs. Potts scolded. "What's gotten into you?"

The little whippersnapper had tried his bubble trick on me once before. The terrifying roar that had earned him, and the fact I nearly threw him across the room before miraculously thinking better of it, ensured he never pulled that stunt again. Until now. This time though, I wasn't angered. I was actually slightly amused. But I was determined not to show it.

"Hmmph!" I said, trying to sound grumpy. But I found the small smile that threatened really hard to suppress, and I hoped it wasn't being noticed. I finished the tea, then picked the saucer up off the cart that helped Chip get around, put it on the floor, and the mischievous little teacup on top of it. "Now I bet Froufrou has just about as much energy as you seem to this morning. Why don't you go find him and see if he wants to play?"

Chip did not have to be told twice. He was going so fast, in fact, his mother was alarmed.

"Slow down Chip!" she called after him. "How many times do I have to remind you of how breakable that handle of yours is?"

Chip did slow himself a bit, and I found myself slightly chuckling as he went out of sight. I quickly disguised the chuckle with a bit of a cough when Mrs. Potts turned to face me, and plastered a grumpy-looking expression on my face. Mrs. Potts' expression, however, told me that she was not in the least fooled.

"Thank you for keeping calm, Master," she said. "He's apparently taken leave of his manners this morning. But you handled it better than the last time he blew a bubble. You do seem to be calmer lately, if you don't mind me saying."

"I suppose Belle has had an influence on me," I said. "She seems to have brought life into this place. Perhaps that's why Chip felt so bold. If I'm being honest it may not be entirely unwelcome."

"While his first comment was rude and uncalled for," Mrs. Potts said, "I would be remiss not to say he does have a point. Belle is the first maiden to grace this castle since the curse happened, and it's not like we have all the time in the world left. She's our best and probably our only hope. And you two can't fall in love if you hide up here."

"I know," I said softly. "I have to try I know. But it feels so foolish. So hopeless. She's so beautiful and I'm...well look at me."

"Remember, appearance isn't everything," Mrs. Potts said. "This curse happened because you only cared about outer beauty to the point you were blind to inner beauty. Belle has both kinds. You must show her your inner beauty."

I sighed. _Do I even have any inner beauty to show?_ I thought.

"I'll go get your breakfast ready. Are you still coming down?"

I nodded. Then Mrs. Potts took her leave, and I remained a few moments longer, deep in thought.


	10. Garden Stroll

**Okay, here's an edited version of this chapter after GodlyJewel was kind enough to bring to my attention some things that had mostly to do with some visual details I missed and Belle seeming to be pushing Beast to notice things (which again was probably because I missed a few visual cues). Thanks GJ for bringing that to my attention. I also twerked a couple things, and edited the poetry reading after rewatching the movie today and realizing a discrepency between the actual poem and the modified version she read (I was thinking the onscreen part started in the middle of the poem, so I added the first few lines, then realized rewatching the movie that instead of starting the onscreen reading in the middle of the poem, they modified it by having her reciting the first line, omitting the second and third lines, then going with what I thought was the middle (but was the second line of their modified version) onward, and switching 'shining' to 'frozen'. Yeah, that'll teach me to go researching quoted poems and adding from the actual poem.**

 **All right, so I _think_ I have the hiccups fixed. **

**Okay! Finally a chapter with an actual movie scene! Glad folks spotted the egg in the last chapter.**

 **GodlyJewel, actually, I thank you for being confused. I wasn't off course yet but I can tell you I wouldn't have put the reading/walking scene at this point. I don't know where I'd have put it. Probably after Something There. So your confusion prompting me to wait was actually a good thing. :)**

 **For this chapter I researched the poem she read when they walked. There were a few lines of the poem before what actually is read onscreen, which I've included here. There are a couple lines after that they swapped out for the solemn silence verse. Not sure why they swapped it out, but I didn't mess with that.**

That afternoon, I cautiously entered the library, where I had a feeling that I would find Belle. If I was going to try this whole falling in love thing, we'd have to be around each other. But would she want me around her? She wanted to share a meal last night, and implied that she cared about me when she said she cared about everyone here. But I couldn't quite shake the doubt. I just stood there, a few steps in, watching her as she tried to make a selection.

"Good afternoon," she said when she turned to see me standing there. "Come to find something to read?"

"Um..." I said. Should I tell her I actually came to see her? How would she take that? A creature like me, coming to see a girl like her. I began to turn back toward the door. "Navigational error. Excusez-moi, mademoiselle."

"Right," she said, clearly not buying what I was selling. I turned to see her with a raised eyebrow, confirming her skepticism. "You've lived here all your life. You know the castle like the back of your paw. And you're telling me you're lost within its walls?"

I just stood there feeling very foolish.

"I am guessing," Belle went on, "that either you've come to find a book, or come to find me. And I doubt you'd be so nervous you'd claim to make a navigational error in your own home if you were simply after some reading material. So, monsieur, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, which I'm certain is a very deliberate one?"

So she caught me. I wasn't sure if this was a relief, or if it made me more nervous. Was both at the same time even possible?

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd found something interesting," I said. "You know, something to, uh, expand your taste in literature perhaps?"

"Ah," she said. "You wonder if I've found something better than _Romeo and Juliet_?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Well I can't say I've found a new favorite yet, but I've found plenty of interesting titles. And surely I'll find more. So I might find a new favorite. Perhaps there's hope for me yet."

She chuckled, and I found myself chuckling as well.

"The library in the village...well this puts it to some serious shame. It's a little collection of books maybe about a dozen strong, if that even, that the village priest keeps in his church. It doesn't need to be big really, Pere Robert calls me the only bookworm in town."

"Nobody else reads?" I asked incredulously.

"Well I'm the only woman who reads for sure," she said. "Female literacy is frowned upon. My father who taught me and Pere Robert were the only ones who supported my love of literature. As for the men, well, not many of them find reading very worthwhile. So there's no reason for Pere Robert to keep many books."

"Hmm," I said. "I suppose that explains why you were rather taken aback by this grand assortment."

"Indeed," she said. "I suppose you're so used to it you take it for granted. Is that why you inquired if I was all right when I just stood there staring?"

I nodded.

"Funny, I've been through Pere Robert's collection at least twice," she said. "I expect I'll be hard pressed to get through all of these books once in my lifetime. But I intend to try. Well, excusing the Greek ones of course."

We both chuckled when she brought up the joke I made the day before. Though one of those guilt pangs pricked my conscience. She _would_ have a lifetime to try. And a life sentence for a rose, which seemed so appropriate before, was beginning to seem a bit excessive now.

"Have you been outside at all after the wolf fight?"

Hmm, where did that come from? That seemed like quite a random question. Why would she ask that?

"Well, no," I said after a moment's thought. "Now that you mention it I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"Well why don't we take a walk?" Belle suggested. "Get some fresh air. But this time let's skip the part where we venture out into wolf territory."

Did she just make a joke about that? Considering what had gotten us into wolf territory was the fact that she'd fled from my wrath, I wouldn't have expected her to find humor in it. But her smile told me it was in fact meant to be humorous. I was surprised to hear myself chuckle, considering I'd received the brunt of the pack's attack.

"Well yes," I said. "Getting attacked by wolves does have a tendency to ruin one's day."

Belle went to get a shawl to wear, and we then met up in the garden. Belle had a book in her hands. By the title I knew it was a poetry volume.

"These grounds are beautiful aren't they?" Belle mused. She then opened the book, flipping through the pages.

"I suppose," I said, having never really considered it before. "The grounds have been cloaked in endless winter for so many years I've just grown used to it. I guess it's just become...normal. Not something I give much thought to. Everything about the curse, eternal winter included, it's just the way it is."

"Hmm," Belle said. "You might try finding the blessing within the curse sometime," Belle said.

I gave her an incredulous look. I couldn't imagine finding a blessing anywhere in this curse.

"You get to live within a beautiful winter wonderland year round," Belle went on. "Oh, here's an interesting poem. _The Crystal Forest_ by William Sharp."

We walked along, and I took in the view as I listened to her read.

"The air is blue and keen and cold. And in a frozen sheath enrolled. Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass. Seems clad miraculously with...glass."

The pause between those last two words were when she looked back at me, noticing I had stilled. She positioned herself at my side. We continued walking along and I noticed how appropriate the words were to the surroundings.

"It's as if I'm seeing it for the first time." I mused. We stood there for a moment. "Is there any more?"

"Um," she said after a chuckle, then looked down at the book. "For in that solemn silence is heard the whisper of every sleeping thing. 'Look, look at me. Come wake me up. For still here I be.'"

These words seemed...appropriate. I was amazed by how well it seemed to reflect my current situation. How I longed to have her look and see the man within the Beast. To wake me up from the nightmare of this curse. We looked at each other for a moment, then I turned to look ahead. Was I silently pleading the words she'd just read? Thankfully we averted each other's gaze, I think, before it became obvious to her.

We stood silent for a moment. I was finding myself enjoying her company, as unlikely as that seemed in the not very distant past. As we made our way back inside, I got to thinking this must be a good thing. We certainly couldn't fall in love with each other if we didn't enjoy being in the presence of the other, right? Thing was, did she even enjoy my presence? Dare I even hope she might? She at least didn't seem offended by it.

"We should do that again," she said. "Fresh air is good to be in once in a while."

"Yes, I suppose so," I said thoughtfully. "Perhaps the next time we're out, well, do you think maybe you might introduce me to the noble steed who carried me back here after that debacle out in wolf territory?"

 **"** Well, I'm sure that can be arranged," Belle said chuckling. "I expect he'll be nervous at first...he was a little...reluctant to have you ride him. But I'm sure he'll warm up to you."


	11. One Horse, Two Snowballs, One Problem

**Ah, we're moving on to meeting Philippe and the first part of Something There. Then some offscreen drama ending in a cliffhanger.**

 **I'm sorry it took so long to update this. I'm going to take about 2-3, maybe 4 chapters to actually cover the entire Something There montage, considering I like to flesh things out with stuff that doesn't appear onscreen.**

It was the next day when we went outside again. Belle had brought her horse Philippe out of the stable. He was in the garden when she asked if I was ready to meet him. We walked towards the white stallion.

How do you meet a horse? Well it had been a while for me, provided you don't count the time I painstakingly climbed onto Philippe for the trip back to the castle after the wolves. But in human form, generally I would just walk up to a horse and pet it. I may have been unkind to people, but I did like horses and they seemed to be all right with me. So I did what had never failed me with a horse before. I reached out to pet him.

This was apparently a mistake. He spooked. Then something occurred to me. Of course he spooked. I looked for all the world like a predator. Not only that, but the first time he ever saw me I was towering over his rider in the rose garden, causing him to flee. Next time he saw me I was really showing my animalistic nature fighting off a pack of wolves. Poor creature was then immediately compelled to allow me to mount him and carry me back home. Why shouldn't he spook?

But he trusted Belle, and she was quickly able to calm him. Once she had him more relaxed, she took my paw and placed it on the side of the white horse. He stood still. He trusted Belle, and Belle trusted me. Wow! Belle trusted _me_! Anyway, this was enough for Philippe and he allowed me to continue petting him while Belle walked away to give us space to bond.

At least I thought she was giving us space to bond. Perhaps that started out as her intent. But I soon found out that she could be quite the mischief maker. I was petting Philippe. We snorted at each other. I pet him some more.

 ** _THWACK!_**

Something cold and hard hit me on the shoulder. I was quite surprised and turned to see what had happened. There was Belle, laughing. It seemed she decided to start a snowball fight.

Well, two can play at that game. I bent down and gathered a snowball in my massive paws. My paws, being massive, formed a massive snowball. I took aim and gave it my best throw. It hit Belle right smack dab in the face.

She went down.

And I laughed.

Then I waited for her to get up.

And I waited.

My smile faded after half a minute passed with no sign of Belle getting up. Had I hurt her? It suddenly occurred to me that my snowball _was_ pretty big. Perhaps a little _too_ big?

"Belle?" I called.

No response.

"Hang tight Philippe," I said, trying to keep nervousness out of my voice. "I think I may have caused a problem."

I felt a sinking feeling inside as I ran to Belle's side and dropped to my knees.

"Belle? Are you all right?"

No response. She was breathing which was good. But she wasn't doing anything besides that. I put a paw on her shoulder.

"Belle, talk to me."

There was only silence.

"Oh no," I said as I gathered Belle up into my arms and stood.

We were just starting to get to know each other, maybe even striking up something of a friendship. I was just starting to allow myself to hope. And what do I do? I go and knock her out cold.

I tried not to let myself panic as I ran with her cradled in my arms towards the castle entrance. But I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. What have I done? What on _earth_ have I done?

I burst through the door. Chapeau the coatrack immediately gave me a look of alarm.

"Chapeau, I need you to get Belle's horse Philippe back to his stall," I said, my worry clear in my voice. "If he spooks at a walking coatrack leave him, but he should be put away if you can."

Chapeau, never one for words, nodded and bowed. I gave a short nod before continuing on. I poked my head in the parlor where I was thankful to see Lumiere, Plumette, and Cogsworth.

"I need help in Belle's room," I said. "One of you fetch Mrs. Potts. The other two of you follow me."

I heard Lumiere begin to question what had happened, but I was already on the move again. Questions could be answered later. Now was the time to get Belle to her room.

Wait a minute. Was there a fireplace in her room? Was it lit? At the top of the main staircase I spun around to see Lumiere and Cogsworth ascending as fast as they could.

"One of you go intercept Plumette and Mrs. Potts. I'm taking her to my room in the West Wing where I know there's a fire going."

I did not await a reply, but instead ran up the western staircase.

Once in my room, I gently laid Belle on my bed and covered her. I sat in the very chair she sat in while I was recuperating from my fight with the wolves. How the tables had turned.

"Belle?" I asked gently. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing. She was still unconscious. I turned a grave face to the door as I heard Cogsworth's waddling gait enter the room.

Would she ever wake up? Had I practically killed my one chance at breaking the spell with a playful snowball fight that went terribly awry?


End file.
